


Fission: Finding Resonance (Fissionverse 2)

by farad



Series: Fissionverse [2]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-17
Updated: 2011-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris, trying to cope and failing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fission: Finding Resonance (Fissionverse 2)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the ever-wonderful Kim, Dail, Annie, and Estee – thanks to them, Chris is far more gentle than he was, and the emotional complexity is closer to where it should be!
> 
> In response to Judy’s wonderful blindfold-and-toys suggestion (even though I don’t think it’s quite what she had in mind) and those wonderful people who wanted a C/V first time (this probably isn’t quite what they had in mind, either . . . )

Vin wasn’t sure when the shift had happened, when they had gone from Chris being the one who came to Vin’s room, making it work between them to give Fowler his quota, to Vin going to Chris’ room and trying to draw him into a response.

Somewhere around the time that Buck had stopped calling regularly, he thought, around the time that Chris had started to fall apart. It had been the small things at first, Chris’ attention turned inward, his eyes distant. He’d been slow to talk, gradually getting to the point that he hardly answered questions, hardly spoke at all.

From time to time, the anger would come, hard and fast and violent, set off by something Chris saw on the video feeds, or something someone said – sometimes something Vin said.

Sometimes by Vin walking into the room. He learned to ease in slow, making sure he knew where Chris was and what the other man had at hand to throw.

At first, he’d hated those fits, their unpredictability, their intensity. But as the silence and stillness grew, he found he missed them.

Somewhere in that time, he had started going to Chris. At first, it had been out of concern, and there was still a lot of that in it. It was just the two of them in this thing. He might not like what they had to do, but he liked having Chris around, being able to touch him, be in the same room with him. He liked it a damn sight better than he liked being alone, as they had been at the start.

And truth be told, he even liked the sex, or was coming to. So to speak. Chris’ mouth on him was better than anyone else’s had ever been, even Charlotte’s. Maybe there was something to be said for sex with a man. He was coming to like touching Chris, too, not that that was a surprise. Fowler was probably still feeding them drugs or something, he thought, and even if he wasn’t, he and Chris had always been close friends. Trapped together, no Buck for Chris, no Charlotte for Vin – and no anybody else for either of them, maybe the thing between them was opening up a little more.

The first time he’d touched Chris cock, he hadn’t been as repulsed as he’d expected.

But it had taken the break-up with Buck to get Vin to do more, to worry enough about Chris to start trying to make him happy – or a little less sad. Touching him had helped for a while, making him smile a little, at least during the sex. When that started to fail, Vin had gone to his knees. The first time – the first time had been frightening and desperate, for them both. The second time, Chris had suggested they do it at the same time, and it had been better, both of them getting off about the same time.

Now though, even that wasn’t making Chris smile. They’d stopped pleasing each other, Vin crouching between Chris’ legs, working to get him interested enough to respond while Vin tried to work himself at the same time. He’d stopped being disappointed when Chris called out Buck’s name – at least he was participating at some level.

Vin had stopped being hurt when Chris rolled away from him afterwards, turning in on himself and shutting Vin out.

“Chris?” he said softly, standing in the open door of Chris’ bedroom. It was as dark as it ever got for them, a nimbus of gold over and around Chris and spreading out in a radius around him.

It was late, but not late enough. Chris was standing in front of the large-screen monitor on the wall, the ‘fake-window’ as Vin had come to think of it. He didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge Vin’s presence.

Vin stepped in, his movements quiet. “Chris?” he said again, more slowly and a little louder.

Chris moved, then, his eyes not leaving the monitor but his head cocking a little. The scene on the screen was still, a desert image, Vin knew, from the first quadrant, he thought. Low hills rising from the sand-covered desert floor, sun set or sun rise, either one, the sky colored in purples and reds.

It was one he had seen before, one Chris seemed to study often.

He started to ask, thinking it a way to ease some tension, but even as his mouth opened, something stopped him. Chris might have motioned or shifted or something, but Vin didn’t actually see it. Something felt different, though, the radiation changing. It was faint, the beginnings of the itch under his skin that he got when they touched or when they needed to touch, the attraction drawing them together. But it hadn't been that long since they had been together, not long enough for the itch to come in on its own.

Which meant Chris wanted him.

Vin still hesitated, unsure. His hope, his want, could be making a mistake, misreading this, trying to make it happen when it wasn’t there at all. He still wondered if there were drugs in the air, in their food, if the attraction was helped along a little to make things easier for them. With Mary in charge of the project, things were different, but maybe not as much as he thought.

And truly, he didn’t know what to think, not even about himself. He’d never wanted to have sex with a man, not even Chris, but now, now it was almost all he thought about. Because Chris was the only person in his world, the only person he could touch.

Chris did move, consciously, one hand dropping from where his arms were crossed over his chest. He held it out to his side, an invitation, and Vin moved the few paces to him.

But he didn't touch, not immediately. Once they connected, the compulsion would overwhelm them.

He stopped, turning to look at the other man. Chris had lost weight, too much, his clothes hanging loose, his bones too sharp. Unlike Vin, he'd preferred to keep his hair cut short, up until the past several months. Now it was long enough to brush his shoulders, his bangs covering his eyes when they fell forward, which was often.

At present, they were swept back, his eyes sharp and focused, more attentive than Vin had seen them in a while. They moved from the picture, not drifting but straight over to meet Vin's eyes.

The itch grew stronger, a thrum that settled into his belly. Vin blinked, and those eyes were still there when he looked back.

On him. Not thinking of Buck, not yet, anyway. Boring directly into his head, his mind. Like they used to, before this had all started, back when they were friends who understood each other, had real lives that were entwined but not the same.

Back when they trusted each other.

Chris' hand moved closer, pushing at Vin's hair. Vin wasn't really aware of turning into the caress, his attention on the slow stroke that stirred through his whole body, drawing heat from the soles of his feet, the tips of his fingers, all the way into his groin.

"You all ri– " Before he could finish, the heel of Chris' thumb was on his lips, holding him silent.

Chris stared into his eyes, his hand firm on Vin's jaw, then leaned in. It was so slow that at first, Vin didn't know he was moving. It was only as the eyes grew larger, becoming the center of his view, that he wondered, but then Chris' lips were on his and the part of him that could think faded fast as the need came over him.

It was as it usually was when Chris touched him, Vin's body taking over, wanting the building desire, wanting the release.

But the kiss – the kiss. Their mouths had been on each other, on necks, on cocks, on throats, licking, biting, marking. But this kiss – this kiss was different. It was passionate, but not the desperate, frustrated, distracting contact they had shared before. It was lips on lips at first, as if Chris didn't know him – or maybe knew him all over again.

Knew him differently.

A first date? The idea would have made him laugh if he'd been able.

But Chris was still kissing him, the hand still holding his head, another hand sliding around Vin's waist and pulling him close. It was – different. Not at all like the other times they had done this. The pressure was there, the thrum of need as the radiations within them called to each other.

But Chris was not pushing, not rushing to finish it as he had done every other time before – even the times when he had been the one starting it. His hands were careful and gentle, as if this was really something he wanted, as if Vin was really something he wanted.

Not who he was stuck with.

Chris' tongue licked across Vin's lips, an offer and a request. Slow and sweet, even, not pushing, but asking. It was different, for Chris had never asked before.

Vin leaned in closer, opened, and sighed as that tongue slid in. It wasn't like with Charlotte – she had been forceful with him, but always in a passive sort of way, pushing him to take control. Her tongue would slip past his teeth and touch his tongue, then play a game of chase with it, until he was in her mouth.

Chris wasn't passive, but he wasn't his usual aggressive either. He wasn't pushing, but taking his time, as if he were tasting Vin, getting to know him. The hand on Vin's jaw had moved, slipping to cup the back of his neck, and the one at his waist was drawing circles in his lower back in a sort of massage.

The itch was building though, growing from an annoyance into a sort of pain. He found himself pulling in against Chris, rubbing their groins together as his own arms drew them closer to each other.

His erection was already heavy, that first thrill between them bringing it awake, just as Chris' was. As Chris was.

The thought startled him and he pulled back, blinking. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had to work to get Chris interested.

Chris was aroused now, his eyes flaring gold, staring directly into Vin's. His lips were wet, his tongue licking slowly over them, his skin taking on the slight sheen of sweat and the shimmer that came with it.

Chris pulled, drawing Vin back to him, and Vin went. He was surprised more when they were kissing again, the idea and the doing of it more familiar now.

It was nice, almost as nice as it had been with Charlotte, but different from that. Nice because it was something new with Chris, something that took the edge off the need a little.

But only a little; even kissing, their hands were working up under shirts and into the exercise pants, touching bare skin.

Chris pressed in against him, but it wasn't just for the friction. A whispered word, "Bed," and Vin let himself be drawn along as the other man moved the short distance to the far wall and the one piece of furniture there.

Chris pulled him down, Vin’s attention on the pleasure and on Chris’ desire. It might have been desire for him, he thought, but he didn’t let himself dwell on that thought, couldn’t let himself hope.

“Want something,” Chris said, drawing back a little. His eyes were bright, gold flashing in the green. “Trust me?”

No, Vin thought, but he didn’t say it. This was the most active Chris had been in so long that he didn’t think he could say anything that would dampen the moment.

Chris grinned a little, reading it in Vin’s eyes. “Not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice rough. “You’ll like it, I promise. You have to.”

It sounded a little like a threat, but Vin knew that it wasn’t; Chris was right, Vin had to enjoy it, enough to get off. They both had to get off, in order to produce enough energy.

Chris kissed him again, and when they broke for air, he held up one hand. In it was a long, dark cloth, folded on itself so that Vin had no idea how big it was. It was fine, though, delicate; he could tell because it was already starting to wear where Chris was touching it, the radiation they put off affecting it quickly.

Chris glanced at it, saw the wearing as well, and said, “Well, you won’t have it on long, it doesn’t have the metal microfibers that they put in every other fabric we use. This will make it easier.”

Vin puzzled it through until it made sense. “Blindfold?” he asked, then swallowed. “You want me to . . .”

“I want you to do nothing but feel,” Chris said, “want you to have nothing to worry about. Can’t worry if you don’t know what’s happening.”

The logic was all wrong, but in its way, right. That didn’t help the flutters in Vin’s stomach though.

“Won’t hurt you,” Chris repeated, already reaching to place the cloth over Vin’s eyes.

He tensed, started to draw away, but Chris leaned in. The weight of the other man pushed Vin back into the bed, and as he started to argue, they were kissing again, Chris’ tongue slick and big in his mouth.

The cloth was cool and soft, some sort of satin, Vin thought. Chris’ fingers wormed under Vin’s head, pulling his hair a little as they knotted the material, and Vin heard a noise, knew he’d made it.

“It’s all right,” Chris said around the kissing, “it’ll fall off pretty soon any way.”

There was a sort of amusement in his voice, and that alone gave Vin a little reassurance. It’d been too long since Chris had sounded anything other than hollow, and he was right, the cloth wouldn’t last long, not with the radiation from both of them.

Vin made himself relax, letting himself adjust to the blindness. It wasn’t so bad, not with Chris’ mouth on him, Chris’ hand rubbing along his arm, teasing the thin skin inside his wrist.

Every time Chris’ thumb brushed over his pulse point, Vin’s erection jumped, as if the two were directly connected. The link got stronger as Chris pulled at his arm, drawing it above his head, and in the far back of his mind, Vin found it funny that Chris had discovered this trick.

He was so distracted by the rhythmic touches that he didn’t register the cool metal folding around his wrist, or the soft clink of a lock catching.

It was when Chris’s hand left his wrist that he realized he was caught.

“What the – “ He pulled, trying to free his hand. The pinch of metal against the bone curbed some of his passion, and he brought his other hand up without thinking.

“Shhhh,” Chris said, catching Vin’s free hand. “You’ll like it.”

“Not like this,” Vin shot back, and he struggled, trying to get his hand free of Chris’ hold. “Don’t like this – Chris, let me go.”

He arched his back, trying to push Chris away, but Chris rolled on to him, pinning him to the bed. At the same time, Chris’ lips once more found his, and his thumb was rubbing along Vin’s pulse point as his erection ground against Vin’s hip.

He wanted to fight it, wanted to resist, but his body was subject to Chris’, the radiation giving the other man control. Vin tried to keep his anger, but the physical contact felt too good. His body relaxed back into the bed, his mouth opening to the pressure from Chris. This time he was aware of the click of the metal cuff around his wrist, and he whimpered his dislike, but even to his own ears, it sounded more like permission.

“Just feel,” Chris said, drawing away. “You’ll like it if you let yourself. This is what you want, isn’t it, me loving you?”

He wouldn’t have a choice, he thought, just having Chris touch him would be enough to make him want it. But – where was the line? Was there a line?

“Chris,” he said, scared suddenly, “you’re not going to hurt me – are you? Please, don’t, I don’t want –“

“Trust me.”

Vin waited, expecting Chris to kiss him, to touch him, to do something to make it impossible for him to resist.

But there was nothing, no movement, not shifting of the bed, no contact. He knew Chris was there, he could hear him breathing, feeling his heat and the tingling of the radiation attraction.

Quietly, Chris repeated, “Trust me.”

Vin swallowed. “What are you going to do?” he asked, surprised that he sounded so thready.

“Give you what you really want,” Chris answered. “Make you really want it.”

‘It’. Vin’s muscles contracted instinctively. He wasn’t surprised, though, had been expecting it.

They’d tried it once already, and failed spectacularly. They’d been stoned, both of them, on the drugs Fowler had forced into them, to make Vin compliant and Chris aggressive.

“Why?” Vin asked. “My mouth ain’t good enough anymore?”

The bed shifted, just a little. “Mouth’s fine,” Chris sighed. “Just want more, and so do you. Need more. Need to see if I can . . .” His words drifted off, as if he were trying to find them.

“If you can what?” Vin demanded. “See if you can make me?”

He heard Chris sigh again. “See if I can actually do it, have sex with someone other than Buck. I've got to move forward, got to let him go.” The last was quiet, the name said with hesitation.

“Ain’t we been having sex?” Vin asked, irritated. “You seem to be doing all right with that, the way it’s been.”

Chris’ fingers moved through Vin’s hair, tugging gently as if to calm him. “I know, I told you, your mouth’s fine. But I need to see if I can forget him. I can't keep living with this doubt, wondering if he's going to come back to me. I've got to take some control.”

Vin twisted, the metal scraping his wrists. “You could just ask me,” he said. “You don’t have to do it this way, don’t have to make me.”

“Better this way,” Chris said, and the bed shifted again, just before a finger brushed one of Vin’s wrists. “Easier for you.”

“How’s it easier for me?” Vin asked, but the last word caught in his throat as the sexual rush shot through him.

“Because it’s easier for me,” Chris said just before his mouth covered Vin’s again. “Just let it be, let me do this, for both of us.”

Distantly, in what little part of his brain was still working, he knew it was because he wasn’t Buck, because Chris wanted this but not with Vin himself. He knew it was partly because Chris was angry, at Buck, at Fowler, at Vin, at the world in general, the fates that had trapped the two of them in here together, and left Buck outside.

He knew it was because Chris needed to be in control of something, anything, even it if it was just this.

Just this.

Something Vin had never done before, letting a man take him. Fuck him.

The thoughts, doubts, jostled in the back of his mind, urging him to say something, but Chris' tongue was in his mouth and one of Chris' hands was now at Vin's waistband, pushing it down.

Chris shifted, much of his weight pressing on Vin's chest, and his second hand joined the first, the fabric of Vin's pants rubbing along his skin as it was forced between the mattress and his body.

It hurt, just enough to contrast with the sexual pull, drawing Vin's meager attention. He drew his legs up, curling his body off the bed as much as the position would allow. Part of him knew that it was good that the pain was distinctive, not overcome by the pleasure. Maybe there were some lines that his body wouldn’t cross, even with Chris working so hard to distract him.

But he didn't have time to think too much as one of Chris' fingers traced along his hipbone, close enough to his groin to make him forget to breathe.

Chris said something, the words soft. They sounded like, "In some ways, you’re too much like Buck," but it could have been something else as Vin's ears were blocked partly by the blindfold and partly by the positions of his arms.

Chris rose, an air current washing over Vin's bare skin in the wake of his absence, and the cloud of want cleared for a few seconds.

"I'll do what you want," he rushed, "just let me go."

"Yeah, I know you will," Chris answered, hands pulling Vin's pants off then stroking up his calves. "And I want you like this." The bed moved and creaked, then Chris was pushing Vin's legs apart, settling between them.

Vin tried to fight it, drawing his knees up and trying to settle his feet together, but Chris’ fingers stroked the sensitive skin of Vin's inner thighs. Vin's legs splayed despite his will, and heat rose in his face as Chris huffed a little chuckle. His words were more clear now, cut with a little amusement.

“You sure you haven’t done this before? I’ve known whores who weren’t this easy.” His hands were moving on Vin’s thighs, the underside now, rubbing harder and pushing low along Vin’s ass. “You don’t have to lie, Vin, I know you’ve wanted this for a long time, wanted me. It's the radiation, maybe drugs, if Mary's lying to us. That's all it can be – I had Buck, still want him, but I want you too. Only thing that makes sense is that it's something we can't control.”

The truth of the words caught in Vin’s chest, and he couldn’t find an answer, didn’t want to. Didn’t want to admit it.

Chris leaned up, his hands sliding up Vin’s torso, pushing up under his shirt to pinch at his nipples as his body stretched over Vin’s. “Been a long time since I had a virgin,” he said, his voice rough. “Hell, even Buck had been fucked by another man.”

The words faded though, the name of his lover, maybe ex-lover, too heavy, Vin thought.

Some part of him wanted to say something, to draw Chris away from the thought of Buck, but before he could formulate an idea, Chris was kissing him, his tongue driving deep into Vin’s mouth, almost choking him.

The fingers pulling at his nipples, coupled with the presence in his mouth, pushed his arousal higher, and his body arched up, wanting more contact. Chris’ thighs pressed against the back of Vin’s, bruising, and spreading Vin’s legs wider so that his groin was flush against Chris’. Their erections rubbed against each other, Chris’ pants the only thing between them.

“Fuck,” Chris moaned, pulling back violently, breathing fast. He ground against Vin, the friction burning, but Vin couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it. He was getting close, fluid leaking from his cock and smearing into Chris’ pants.

Chris cursed again, then pulled all the way off, leaving Vin gasping and straining against the cuffs, desperate for contact.

Before he could get his bearings, Chris was moving, climbing up his body, his bones sharp as they glanced off Vin’s hips and ribs. Chris stopped when his knees were in Vin’s armpits, his hands digging into Vin’s hair.

Between the blindfold and his arms, Vin couldn’t quite make out the words, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on, the smell of Chris’ musk hitting him a second before he felt the slick heat of the head of Chris’ dick against his lips.

He took it, habit kicking in even as Chris pushed his thumbs against the hinges of Vin’s jaws, demanding.

It drove in, thick and pungent but familiar and, despite it all, welcome. He sucked and licked and put as much of himself as he could into loving this thing in his mouth. He missed having his hands, wanting to grab at Chris’ hips and guide him, or even hold him in place, especially as the thrusting grew deeper and cut off his air.

He tried to pull away, but Chris held him in place, his hands locked around the back of Vin’s head. Vin struggled, then, gasping as he could, his mouth open as far as he could manage. Even as he choked and gagged, his cock throbbed for attention and release.

He could die, he thought, suffocate, and his body would still get off, just from having Chris this close, the other man’s radiation more effective than Vin’s own.

As abruptly as he was doing everything else, Chris jerked back and out, the force of it leaving Vin heaving for air. Chris still sat on his chest, so he couldn’t turn as he coughed and sputtered, drooling from the corners of his mouth.

“Dammit,” Chris swore, his voice close and clear. “Mouth’s too good, Tanner, may not be able to stand your ass.”

“Let me go,” Vin said, or tried to; he was wheezing, his lungs catching up, “and I’ll give you the best blow job yet –“

“Shut up,” Chris said, but it wasn’t sharp, just flat. “Going to have your ass and you’re gonna like it, I’ll make sure of it. Even though,” he made a sound that might have been a laugh, the breath ruffling Vin’s hair over Vin’s left ear, “don’t know that it matters. You could come now, couldn’t you, even choking to death.” He made the noise again and Vin heard the desperation in it. “Why the hell couldn’t it have been Buck?” Chris muttered, the pain in it so stark that Vin’s belly twisted. “Why couldn’t it be him?”

The anger came out of nowhere, or maybe somewhere, maybe that part of himself that was submitting to this, to everything Chris wanted, to things Vin himself had never even thought of wanting. “Let me up,” he snarled, his voice grating, “get your damned hands off of me and let me up.”

He tossed his head, pushing to get the blindfold off, and twisted his hands, uncaring of the tearing to the skin under the cuffs.

Chris’ weight shifted, and Vin thought he might be relenting. The hope of it grew stronger as one of Chris’ hands fell to Vin’s wrists.

“Don’t,” Chris sighed, his tone hoarse, “you’re hurting yourself.”

“What the fuck do you care?” Vin shot back, and he struggled harder, twisting under Chris’ hands, and trying to lever his body up, to push Chris off of his chest. “I ain’t Buck, ain’t never gonna be – get the hell away from me!”

“I know,” Chris said softly, “It ain’t your fault.”

The words might have been an apology, or as close to one as Chris would ever give, but they didn’t do anything but make Vin madder. “Fuck no, it ain’t my fault, ain’t nobody’s fucking fault! But we’re stuck together, and the least you could do is stop hating me for it!” He twisted and bucked and pushed himself up as much as he could, trying to dislodge the other man, his anger and frustration overcoming, finally, his desire.

Chris tucked his legs closer to Vin’s body, sliding back so that he was sitting on Vin’s belly and his chest was pressing against Vin’s. The weight pinned Vin to the mattress, so that he couldn’t move, even though he tried.

“Vin! Stop it!” Chris snapped, and his mouth was close, too close, and he was kissing Vin.

It took longer this time, Vin’s fury keeping the arousal at bay and helping him to try to fight. He managed to break the contact, pulling his lips away, almost rubbing the blindfold free, but Chris’ hands clamped hard on his head, holding him still.

This time, as Chris’ lips met his, he bit, or tried to. His teeth closed on air, even though he knew he had scraped across the soft flesh of at least one lip, and he snapped his teeth a second time, trying to drive Chris back.

The blow that followed was more startling than painful, an open-handed slap to his cheek that stung. His lip split, cut on his own teeth, and for a second, he froze.

That was all Chris needed, that instant of stillness. His lips were on Vin’s again, his tongue licking at the blood, then slipping into Vin’s mouth and taking control.

Vin tried to shake it off, but the anger was suppressed by the rush of blood to his groin, and he opened to Chris as if there’d never been a pause.

Chris was slower, now, more gentle, and one hand drifted down Vin’s neck to his chest. He fingered Vin’s nipple again, light and teasing, and Vin whimpered, hating himself for it, hating that he had no way to refuse.

“Please,” he whispered against the other man’s mouth, “Chris, please –“

“I plan to,” Chris said. His tongue flicked out, touching Vin's lips, but instead of driving back into Vin's mouth, he traced down over Vin's chin then along his throat skipping over his shirt but catching at the same nipple he'd been touching.

The path only led down, Vin knew, and he wasn’t disappointed. His nipple was still tingling, his erection once more dripping and bouncing on his belly as Chris licked farther down. The violation of his belly button was not painful except in the too-much-of-a-good-thing way that put Vin so close to orgasm that he was thrusting his hips up, begging for contact.

Chris ignored him though, kneeling between Vin's legs. He didn't give Vin time to get his bearings, touching his balls every so often or the soft skin just past them.

The soft skin that led back to the small circle Chris wanted.

Vin tried to say no, tried to fight it, but Chris' touch was magic and frequent, and he couldn't refuse when Chris positioned his legs, knees up, spread wide, giving Chris access.

The first time he touched the puckered ring, Vin tried to draw away, at least in his head. His body did move, but it was a writhing motion that canted his hips up, making it easier for Chris.

"You're gonna like this," Chris said, touching it again, then slowly pushing in.

Vin knew what this felt like – they'd had more than enough tests and insertions and experiments done on them since the radiation exposure had put them here. He'd been violated in more ways than he liked to think on.

But this one wasn't for medical reasons, and the way Chris was doing it, slow and curious, left no doubt about the intent.

"Tight," Chris muttered, or Vin thought he did. "You need to relax, or this is going to hurt."

Then it was going to hurt, because he didn't think he could get much more relaxed, not with the way his body was opening to Chris, giving the other man anything he wanted.

The finger went deeper, twisting around. It wasn't painful but it was unfamiliar and because of that, uncomfortable.

Chris’ voice seemed to come from a distance, his tone distracted. "I can make you come just by doing this," he said, "I can make you come with one finger. I used to do it to Buck, all the time, just to show him who was in control."

It wasn't a challenge Vin wanted to take, not with his body so far out of his control, but Chris was twisting his finger in deeper, then pulling it out almost all the way before going back in.

The rhythm was fast and hard and every so often, the finger would turn inside him, touching a different place.

The pressure was building, the need for release growing, spilling from his cock to ooze along his belly.

Maybe, he thought, maybe if he got it over with, if he went ahead, Chris would too and they could stop this before it went any further . . .

"You'll come even harder the second time," Chris said.

Before Vin could argue, Chris' finger swiveled again, but this time it touched something deep inside Vin and the orgasm exploded through him.

He drifted, not wanting to come back, but eventually whatever was rubbing along his belly pulled him back to awareness. He shifted, tried to move his hand only to be reminded that it was still caught in the cuffs.

"What are you doing?" he asked, or tried to; it came out garbled and unclear even to himself.

"Just be still," Chris said just before there was another swipe over Vin's abdomen. "I keep forgetting how much younger you are. You still put out a lot."

It took Vin a second to make the words make sense. "What are you doing?" he asked again, worry bouncing around in his head.

"Lube," Chris answered, the word flat. "If we produce it, it doesn't degrade as fast. Buck figured it out, he’s always been good that way, at coming up with ways to make the sex work."

Lube.

Vin jerked, felt the pull of the cuffs, hated the blindfold. "What do you need it – "

"We're not done yet," Chris said, distractedly. “You’ll like it.”

Vin was too lethargic to resist as Chris once more touched the ring of muscle. It wasn't as tight now, after the release, and Chris' finger was wet with Vin's ejaculate.

But something wasn't right, Vin noted, this was larger than Chris' finger, longer and colder and unyielding.

Vin shifted, then gasped as pain jarred him, the thing inside him not giving with the new angle.

"Be still," Chris ordered, but his tone was distracted. He pulled whatever it was out, then repositioned it before pushing it back in, deeper.

"What are you doing?" Vin asked, thinking that he was just repeating himself, and Chris ignored it now as well, pushing whatever it was in and out, the friction starting to burn a little.

"Got to stretch you," Chris answered, more or less. "The handle of one of our forks is a good size, round and not too thick. Pretty, too, the way it glows when it comes out of you. Buck said I make things glow gold, like the sun. But you, you’re making it glow kinda of blue and silver, like the water at night."

The idea of it made Vin a little sick. "You're doing me with a fork?" he choked out, and he squirmed again, until the pain caught him.

"Forking you," Chris said with another chuckle. "Buck would love that. Everything we did made him happy, made him laugh. I miss that. I miss him.”

The last words were almost too low for Vin to hear, but the tone was different now, not as sad, but becoming more bitter.

Vin barely had time to brace himself before the bitterness turned to the anger he knew too well.

"Time for something bigger," Chris said louder, the words clipped. He pulled the fork handle out, and for an instant, Vin was relieved. Oddly, though, there was a sort of emptiness, and his muscles spasmed at the loss.

Until something larger snugged up against his opening.

"That's pretty," Chris said, his voice harder now, the edge one Vin knew too well. "Your come makes the silver metal sparkle, and where it touches you, it shimmers on the glow. Open up."

It hurt, though, stretching the ring too fast, and too wide, and he cried out as Chris pressed it in.

"Hush," Chris scolded, but the pressure eased back. "Draw your knees up and relax, open up for me."

"No, I don't want this," Vin said, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, you do," Chris said, and the edge was back, cold and sharp. "You'd be lying to both of us if you say otherwise."

Something warm and wet swept over Vin's spent cock, jolting into his balls. Another languid swipe – Chris' tongue, he realized as arousal stirred again.

"Won't take you long at all," Chris announced. He licked again and Vin couldn't stop himself from arching up into the contact, his cock starting to swell.

The thing at his entrance slide inside, uncomfortable but not hurting the way it had.

"Knew you’d like it," Chris said, his tone cold. "My metal lube tube half inside you and your dick coming up. By the time you get a my cock inside you, you'll be begging for it, your ass waving in the air. It’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve wanted since before Buck left?"

Vin didn't have a chance to argue, as Chris pushed the tube further in, turning it. It hurt again, stretching and stinging, but Chris' mouth came back to Vin's groin and he couldn't sort the pleasure from the pain.

It went on for a while, Chris matching the attention of his mouth to the thrusts, so that it jumbled in Vin's head. He wasn't sure when Chris stopped playing with his cock, but the pain and discomfort were gone and he was again feeling empty when Chris pulled his tube out.

"If this doesn’t make you ready for me, nothing will," Chris said, but his tone had changed once more, not the distraction from earlier, or the cold sharpness, but a sort of flatness, a deadness as if he felt nothing about what he was doing. About what he was doing to Vin.

Something blunt and cold and large rubbed along the crease between Vin's cheeks, spreading them with a slick goo before lodging into place.

Too big, way too big, Vin thought, but his erection pulsed as Chris blew across it.

"You're getting a real honor," Chris said, his tone still dead. "This was made special, for me. He used to like to watch me fuck myself with it, said it glowed gold and green and shot sparks. I never got to see it, not while it was in me, but it'll be in you now."

Vin's throat was dry, his mind momentarily over taking the phermones and endorphins fritzing his brain connections. "You have a – you've got a dildo of Buck's – " He couldn't finish the sentence, the idea too sick, the fact that it was about to be in him repulsive.

"He didn't want me to forget him. Guess I should have gotten him one of me, huh." He laughed then, low and long, but it was desperate, the joke one only a few of them understood; the radiation didn't allow either Chris or Vin to touch many things before those things decomposed. The lube they were using was specially made for them, and it functioned as a lotion, cream, or anything they needed for their skin.

Whatever gel or substance Buck had used to get the cast of his erection would never have worked for Chris or Vin.

"Chris," Vin started, the wrongness of this coupling quickly with a fear for Chris' state of mind.

But Chris went on, his tone dead again, as if he were a machine. "Seems kind of fitting to be using this on you, letting him fuck you first. Guess if he can do it, I can."

"Chris," Vin tried again, scared. "Let's slow down, you don't have to – "

"He was right, though," Chris went on, talking over Vin, "the glass glows bright, the pretty blue-silver."

"Glass?" Vin blurted, louder. "It's glass? What if it breaks – Chris, don't – "

"Reckon you need to get your knees up and hold still." Chris shoved then, the thick head of the glass cock going in.

Vin cried out, arched, but the curve of his spine made the angle worse and he bent, drawing his legs up as Chris had commanded.

Lush heat engulfed his own cock head, and he was caught once more between the pleasure and the pain.

He rode the waves of both, not sure where they crashed against each other, until a movement shifted the big thing inside him and it came up against his prostate. The pain shattered into tiny pieces that glittered against the haze of his arousal.

He was so close, on the edge, when Chris pulled out of him and away.

The abrupt absence of sensation left him dizzy. Something cupped the back of one of his knees, bending him and pushing him back into the mattress. Then Chris snarled in his ear, "Going to give you what you want, Tanner, the ride you've been waiting for. See how we both like it."

As with every one of the implements he had used, Chris pushed in fast, and set a hard, deep pace that had Vin aching with the stretch of tissue and muscle. Just as it started to overwhelm, Chris found the angle and each stroke rubbed the sweet spot, each stroke taking Vin's breath. He was on the edge, so close that he wanted to beg, would have if he'd been able to string two words together, then Chris' fingers closed around Vin's erection, pulled once, twice, as Chris growled, "Come for me, you know you want this," and Vin did.

When he came to, he was stretched out on the bed, hands still over his head, blindfold still in place. But as he flexed one arm, he realized that the cuff was open. The skin pulled, stuck to the metal with sweat and some blood, but he was free. The blindfold fell apart when he tugged at it, and he blinked even in the dim light.

He thought at first that he was alone, not sensing Chris, but as he wiped at his body with the remnants of the blindfold, he caught sight of the other man, standing before his damned monitor picture again.

Chris looked as he had when Vin first came into the room, but now he wore only his pants and they were open, even though he had put his dick away.

Vin sat up, but it was a slow process, his muscles sore and tight from their confinements, his ass bruised and a little torn.

As he swung his feet to the floor, he caught sight of the three things Chris had used on him, sparkling against the ruffled bedclothes.

The sight made him queasy.

Despite himself, he made a little noise as he reached for his pants. Chris stiffened but he didn't turn. Vin wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, wasn't certain of his own feelings. All he wanted was to get to his room, to get cleaned up.

That desire got even stronger as he levered himself up, and something inside him leaked out, tickling as it drifted down his inner thighs.

Vin was almost to the door, his pants bunched in his fists, when Chris said quietly, "When I lost Sarah and Adam, the rage kept me alive. The rage and Buck."

Vin stopped, but he didn't look back.

"I swore I'd never get hurt like that again. And I don't guess I'm hurting as much now as I did then, being able to fuck you proves that. But I ain't never gonna hurt like this again either." He turned so that Vin could see his face if he looked. "I know what you want from me, you can't hide it. It's in your eyes when you come – had to cover them up so I couldn’t see what you feel. But I can't give you nothing more than what I just did in that bed. I won't. I ain't never hurting like this again."

His words burned, scorching what little control Vin had. "That the way of it?" he shot back. "You take what you want from me, whether I want to give it or not, then treat me like a slut because I can't fight you? 'Cause you can shove anything you want inside me and I'll still get off?" He turned as well, meeting Chris' gaze directly. "Ain't nobody else who can do that, Chris, only you. You want to know the real funny part of all of this? I'm the only person in this whole fucking galaxy who ain't gonna walk out on you. We're gonna be stuck together for the rest of our lives, and you're worried I might hurt you?" He shook his head, turning back to the door. "I ain't locking you to a bed and fucking you with someone else's dick. I never held you accountable for what happened with Charlotte and me, and I never tried to come between you and Buck – I ain't the one using saving his life as an excuse to fuck somebody else."

There was more he could have said, more he probably should have, but it was catching up to him now, the pain, the fear, and the sheer stupidity of it all.

He made it through the door, thought he might make it to his room before he collapsed, but as with everything else that had happened so far, his luck ran out.

Chris caught him by the hair, jerking him back and slamming him against the wall. He was in Vin's face, spit flying as he yelled, "I'd never hurt him if I didn't have to – it's this fucking radiation, Tanner, you of all people should know that what we feel for each other ain't real! I don’t love you and you don’t love me – it’s something else going on in our heads! If had it to do all over, he'd have been with me, not you!"

"So he could be trapped in here with you? That's some kind of love!" Vin heard himself yell back. "Much more real than what we feel for each other, wishing him to be going through this hell with you! But at least we agree – I'd have let him be in here with you, too! Hell, he may as well be! He’s in bed with us no matter what I say or do!"

He pushed against Chris, pushed harder when Chris didn't budge, then in a move that surprised even him, he punched Chris full on in the face.

For an instant, Chris was as stunned as Vin. Then he fell back, staggering until he went down on his ass in the floor.

Vin didn't wait around this time, making it to his room and locking the doors behind him. And then locking his bathroom door as well.

The shower was hot, he saw the steam rising, felt it gusting against him, but he couldn't seem to get warm. Memories of those kisses, the soft seduction and the lie behind them, left him more raw than the aches in his body. Of course, he reminded himself, it could all be like Chris said, it could all be in his mind, radiation, drugs and his own desperation coloring it all.

Regardless, he'd been fucked, and Chris had done it. At least that part was done, was real.

Separated by walls and metal and the very air itself, Buck had managed to screw him, too.


End file.
